I’ve been blogging regularly since the 90s (yes, really), and I used to be much, much more unrestrained about it than I am now. Back then, blogging really was public journalling; the place where I could work out my own frustrations and internal thought processes. Over the years, that “rawness” has been pared out, thanks to a few… less than positive experiences. Not a huge number, mind you. Certainly not huge compared to the 15+ years I’ve been at this game. But it doesn’t take a huge number before you start to really strip back your words. To curate your public presence. To find it easier just to reblog cats than to actually say anything of substance.

I’m sure it’s just a coincidence I seem to find this progression more common in women than in men. I’m sure.

Ironically, since I’ve started blogging as an extension of a professional persona, I’ve actually worked hard to put some of that raw opinion back into what I’m writing. Not too much, not too raw (it’s still a professional persona, after all). But… enough raw to be interesting (maybe). It’s much tougher than taking it out was.

Fear is a good sanitiser. But it’s no way to live.